Under the Empty Moon
by Animagus-Spirit
Summary: Another of my late night written angst fics. It is the account of Remus's first transformation after the Department of Mysteries. Dark. Rated PG-13 for blood.


A/N: Another of my one-shot angst fics done late at night while fighting to stay awake and listening to dark music. Believe me, I certainly wasn't expecting to write this but I suppose that the environment called for it. This story is about Remus on the first full moon after Sirius's ::sob:: departure. It's not intended to contain Slash, but taking it that way makes it sound better, then I have no objection. Well, I hope that you enjoy this! Please review!

I've locked myself in this room at headquarters. I'm not quite sure why I chose this of all rooms to experience my transformation. Perhaps I expect to find something. But as I survey it as I have so many times since the night at the Department of Mysteries I see only cold, blank, dead walls, a bed, and nothing more. No sign that someone once lived here, or who that person was. No memories linger but those of unrest and darkness. I sigh deeply. There is little point to continue dwell on memories and grief when a new war lies fresh upon your doorstep. It distracts you.

I just sit here impatiently, awaiting the rise of the cold, heartless full moon. I have neglected to take my potion. When I leave myself I want to be able to expel all of this grief, bitterness, and fury.

Ahhhh....I can begin to feel it come, rippling through my flesh, beginning to release the caged beast inside. As the claws begin to painfully protrude from my fingers, the first surge of pain hits me. I enjoy it as it numbs the far worse internal agony. Coarse, brown hairs begin prickling out from my skin and cover everything. My mind begins to lose control, and my movements are held by the wolfishness. I have not experienced that feeling since the potion came about. It now comes back. As a young boy cold and shivering alone in a desolate shack, as a young man newly deprived of friends and again alone, and now I am here alone once again.

The bed is the first thing to go. My claws dig into the neatly folded cover and tear them to ribbons. After the bed is mutilated and in shreds on the floor, I go for the walls, clawing deep gashes into their blankness. With nothing more to destroy I begin to attack myself. I have not had to feel that for ages, and begin to question my decision against the potion. I begin to scratch myself. The claws sink deeply into my flesh and cut into it, spilling out blood. I feel the pain white-hot surge through me. It has only just begun. I see myself bite into my skin and rip at it. The pain...but I cannot stop, even if I tried with all the will inside me, and soon even more crimson blood splashes to the hard wood floor.

I try with no avail to somehow restrain myself. Flashes of past transformations play rapidly like slides through my head. They mostly consist of the most memorable times when we were the Marauders, kings in our minds, and without fear of the world and separation. I am the final one. The pain of reality stings cleat, and I cannot ignore it. I have kept trying to tell myself that, but until now I have not been able to thoroughly comprehend it. I have so many things I wish that I had said. To Lily.., James...., and Sirius.

My wolf state lurches up violently from the blood-soaked ground and begins to fight again. Everything's spinning around, growing hazy. I try to evade another bite, not wanting to die. I've had difficult times, full of sorrow and pain, but never have I truly wanted death, and I still do not. Losing all control.....

Suddenly in this haze I see a large black shape moving towards me. As it walks more clearly into my vision, I believe that I must indeed be dead, and my breath gets caught in my throat. As my wolfish side tries to fly out for another go, he somehow suspends it. A new shape begins to come to view. I can only make out the outline, but I know who it must be. He comes over and sits down beside me, antlers shining.

Peace begins to come over me once more, and control slowly returns. The moon has set now. I lie here motionless, in much physical pain, but less so in emotional turmoil. Everything goes dark.

I awake, covered in bandages, in my room at headquarters. My eyes slowly bring everything into focus. The rest of the Order begins to stir. They begin to tell me about how they found me and what happened. At one part Dumbledore's eyed twinkled rapidly. Amongst my bloody paw prints they also found ones of another sort, more of a dog than a wolf. To their further surprise they discovered hoof prints that unmistakably belonged to a stag. I pretend to be shocked, but deep inside it all becomes clear. I am never alone.

A/N: Well I hope you enjoyed the story. Please review! Flames are welcome!


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